


No Air, No Safety, No Home

by HeadlinesBreadlinesBlowMyMind



Category: Rent - Larson
Genre: I mean it’s not super clear but I wrote it with NYTW in mind so, Mark Cohen - Freeform, NYTW RENT, Post-Rent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 00:02:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17233649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadlinesBreadlinesBlowMyMind/pseuds/HeadlinesBreadlinesBlowMyMind
Summary: After all of his friends pass, Mark finds himself more lonely than ever.





	No Air, No Safety, No Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [transmarkcohen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/transmarkcohen/gifts).



> So I wrote a shitty poem cause I was Hella Sad(TM) and decided to turn it into a story. Featuring the one and only Mark Cohen because he’s Hella Sad(TM) 24/7. The ending is up for interpretation I guess.

Roger had past. Now it was only Mark left. First Angel had gone, Collins followed short after (no one ever really knew if it was the illness or grief that killed him). Mimi pasted about a month after their reunion, and Mark’s relationship with Maureen and Joanne faded away when they broke up. There were rumors about them being positive as well, but Mark didn’t know for sure. All he knew was that he was left. Stupid, naive, Mark. 

He would never admit to it, but Mark wished he was positive. He didn’t want to be the only one to survive, that was his worst nightmare. After Roger got really bad Mark decided to go downtown to get checked. For days he had been praying that the slip would say he was positive. If anyone was up there, they definitely didn’t listen to Mark’s wishes. He was negative, blessed with a curse. 

For four days Mark has lived without his best friend. The apartment was bleak and empty. Mark has barely left his room for more than 10 minutes total. The bed was dirty and so was Mark, he hadn’t showered or cleaned up anything in the loft. Roger’s empty beer cans and dirty shirts and socks were spread all across the living room. Just casting a glare at the mess made Mark’s torso ache. His heart would burn and his eyes would sting. Everything would get blurry and he couldn’t see well, like he had taken off his glasses or had water in his eyes. 

No, it was much easier to stay in his room. The growling from his stomach was a normal sound at this point. Just thinking about food made him want to throw up. He couldn’t stomach the idea of eating something, his stomach needed it, but equally rejected it whenever he tried. 

Laying on the bed Mark turned to his side. He put the blanket over his body. He was cold, but hardly noticed. He just needed something to comfort him. 

Closing his eyes he felt as if an unknown darkness swallowed him whole. Like waves splashing and tossing him around. All he could do was to try to stay floating. He needed to stay on top of the water. Needed to. Trying to open his eyes again was impossible, they were stoning. Worse than he had ever felt before.

He couldn’t see.  
He couldn’t breathe.  
He couldn’t swim. 

His whole body felt like it was on fire. His mouth and lungs filled with water. It was salty and cold, it burned all the way down

Finally, Mark Cohen was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at 2 am, pls don’t murder me


End file.
